Missing Salad—The Cause of the Apocalypse

I usually blog about writing or something having to do with writing, but 1 out of 50 posts, I blog about something else. Today is one of those days.

Through the course of a chain of events, back in May I took a contract job working for a friend of mine at a company I used to work for. I like most things about my job, but yesterday, during our company party, I was witness to some of the most appalling behavior by my coworkers. I told my husband last night, as I recounted the incidents, that I was unbelievably embarrassed by their behavior.

What happened to make me see several of my coworkers in a new, negative light?

The salad and rolls were missing from our catered holiday lunch.

Yep. Catastrophic, huh? Let me explain.

The tale of the missing salad spread through our office like an explosion of Agent Orange on the Ho Chi Minh trail, its toxic fumes and plume of smoke infecting the masses. In the minute it took me to get in line for food, the sarcastic jokes about the missing salad had reached epic proportions, and for one person (the lady who organized the lunch...we'll call her Wanda), the missing salad and rolls were cause to erupt like a volcano. She would still be fuming over them three hours later. Talk about the end of the world. You'd have thought it was. Missing Salad—The Cause of the Apocalypse.

The delivery guy was still in the building, and there is no way he couldn't have heard the remarks or avoid Wanda's wrath. I looked around at the people barking about the salad and asking for salad dressing and making all manner of other insensitive commentary, my mouth gaping. And we had croissants, so it wasn't like rolls were a big deal. I'm actually wondering why we even ordered rolls if we already had a platoon-sized tray of croissants, which I think are better than rolls, anyway.

But I digress.

Here we were, about to sit down to our Christmas lunch, a time of love and sharing and good cheer, and all anybody could do was bitch, joke, and laugh (and not in a good way) about the missing salad. Not a single person thanked the delivery man except for me. As he was walking out and past my desk, I stopped him and told him the green beans and mashed potatoes I was eating were the best I'd ever had. And they were. I don't think I've ever had such delicious mashed potatoes (I even had them for dessert, they were so good). And who'd have thought green beans could be so yummy they'd be the first thing I finished on my plate. The ham and turkey were good, too. And the jellied cranberry sauce was a delightful touch. I'm a sucker for jellied cranberry sauce, and I won't lie, I actually got excited when I saw it was part of our luncheon.

So, anyway, I wished the delivery man a Merry Christmas, as he did me, and waved goodbye as he left.

Everyone else was too busy bitching about the salad to wish him a Merry Christmas. Shameful.

Wanda continued to rant and bark to the point I wanted to tell her—and pardon me here—to shut the fuck up and eat her damned food...oh, and Merry fucking Christmas. I was so aggravated, and Wanda's behavior, as well as that of others, just soured my joy for the day. Because not only did she bitch ad nauseum for hours about the lack of salad (are you getting tired of this, yet? Yeah, now you know how I felt yesterday), but then, in front of everyone, she said the catering company would give her a free meal. I'm not quite sure exactly what was meant by a free meal, or how valid this allegation was, because Wanda has a tendency to embellish and...well...lie. For example, she had also told employees that my boss had told her in a meeting (of which I was a part of) that if employees wore jeans the day of the Christmas party they would be putting their job on the line since the company president was joining us.

Ummm, that wasn't true. Not even close. My boss never said anything like that, but yet, Wanda told at least one employee that if she wore jeans, she'd be putting her job on the line. Guess who came in wearing jeans and who didn't? Yep, almost everyone, including my boss, wore jeans yesterday. So, when it comes out of Wanda's mouth, I automatically take it with a grain of salt. She's an office gossip, a trouble maker, and a pot stirrer...not someone I'm gonna put a lot of credibility in. Unfortunately, she has a big mouth, and enough people DO listen to her to make her dangerous, and I know she's bitched about me. God only knows what she's said about me and what words she's put in MY mouth if she's so willing to shove words in my boss's mouth (and he's the VP and head of the office).

So, anyway, Wanda said something about us getting a free meal and implied that yesterday's meal should be free, cocking her eyebrow and getting all uppity, blah, blah, blah. I sat back and shook my head. All they had forgotten was salad and rolls, and I'm not even sure if rolls were even supposed to be delivered. The catering company had already drastically reduced our meal by hundreds of dollars just to get our business, and now Wanda wanted the entire lunch to be free? Over salad???? Seriously? I could see getting a $50 or even $100 break on the meal, but completely free? No. That's not right.

Excuse me while I hang my head and put a paper bag over it, because it's embarrassing for me to even admit I know Wanda and work with her. And I'm equally embarrassed by the behavior of several of the others I work with.

A few hours later, I got a call from someone looking for Wanda, and I think it was someone from the catering place. When I gave Wanda the message, she snapped off some bitchy retort about how "they don't want to be talking to me until I've cooled off." Blah, blah, blah. Get over yourself, Wanda.

So, let's all send Wanda some Christmas cheer this year, because God knows she needs it. I'm just glad she's not in MY family. Whew! Dodged a bullet there.

Happy holidays everyone. Don't be Wanda. And DON'T FORGET THE SALAD! :)

-D